The Azure Bottle: Chapter 6

 Chapter 6

Thyra wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. She glowered down at the barrel, her longing growing for it to simply roll itself below deck. Hilda was carrying two crates, one on top of the other, as she headed to the trapdoor that led to the hull. 

    “Are you coming?” she queried, peering back at Thyra. 

    Grunting her response, Thyra heaved the barrel into her tired arms. It had been two weeks since they’d left the port to find the treasure the map spoke of. Thyra had been put to work ever since, it wasn’t much like what she’d thought life on the sea would be. She’d imagined singing shanties, gazing through a spyglass, and fighting storms, not hauling crates, swabbing the deck, and tying up the rigging. 

    Blonde hair clinging to her face, Thyra made a slow descent down the stairs and into storage chambers. As she passed by the kitchen, she caught the wafting smell of fish, again. She had to resist the urge to groan. 

    “Is this what all the merchant trips you’ve been on have been like?” She asked Hilda as she set down her barrel. Red hair bobbed up and down from behind a mass of crates.  

    “Most of the time I’ve been captain-in’ my ship, but that is only slightly more interestin’.  Don’t worry though, all sea trips start slow, especially since we’re goin’ against the wind. It will get more eventful when we approach our destination.” Hilda announced from near the back of the hull. 

    Thyra sighed and prepared to go back above deck. The stench down there was nearly unbearable. The fishy smell could be tolerated, but the smell of mildew was still potent, and the sailor’s bunks, which could be smelled from anywhere below deck, contained a rancid aroma of body odor and rum. 

    She was thrown to the side as the ship turned sharply. Slamming against the wall, Thyra moaned and forced herself to sit up.

    “What was that?” She questioned, rubbing her head. Hilda, who’d managed to get a hold on the wall, rushed past her onto the main deck. Confused, Thyra followed. Sailors grumbled around them as the two women pushed through the throng to the quarterdeck. As they approached the helm the crowd thinned, and Arne and the king became visible. 

    “Alistair!” Hilda called, “What’s happening?” The king turned and Thyra cocked an eyebrow. That wasn’t the king’s name. He peered out over the ocean and Hilda and Thyra followed his gaze. There was a shipwreck further out. It was distant but they’d already gone closer than any of the crew would have liked. 

    “Sirens.” Hilda muttered. If they had known that this wreck was here they would’ve gone miles around it. Where shipwrecks lay, sirens waited. Thyra gulped and took a step back. First voyage or not, she knew to fear the beast of the land beneath the waves. Sirens had a fearsome reputation and a dark history. 

    The sunken wreck waved its ghostly flag like an omen of warning as they sailed slowly by. All eyes watched the ship. A tail, long, black, and scaly, sent a spray of white as it slapped against the water’s surface. Thyra wondered for a moment if she’d imagined it, but when she looked over and saw Hilda’s ashen face she knew she hadn’t. 

    They were in a siren nest, her only comfort was that it was still broad daylight. She hoped that the sirens wouldn’t decide to follow them, hunting them until the sun set and the moon peaked her corpse-like white face over the edge of the world. 

    The ship slowly regained order, but everyone was silent. None of the sailors joked or sang, every footfall that was louder than the smallest whisper made the crew wince. Thyra kept her eyes on the sea as she loaded the barrels below deck, wordlessly following Hilda. In the silence she could hear her own heart beating like a ticking clock. 

    The sun edged closer to the horizon as the stars began to peak out across the sky. Each splash in the water made the sailors nervous, and each patch of still water was imagined in the form of an enemy, sharp teeth grinning maliciously, blood lust filling siren eyes. Thyra gulped as the sun’s last shining rays slipped out of view and darkness descended. 

    The world was uncannily soundless, the sound of the keel cutting through the black waves was the only thing to be heard. Hilda and Thyra’s work shift ended, but they didn’t go below deck. Even in the light of the moon, Thyra’s imagination showed her pictures of yellow, animal-like eyes watching her in the dark. She didn’t even want to know what she’d imagine in the utter blackness under the deck. 

    Arne’s watchful eyes looked out ever before the ship, searching for the metallic, blueish-black scales of a siren’s tail. A low hum rose up over the water. It was soft and beautiful, yet mournful and in need of aid. It brought back images of Thyra’s mother to her just before she’d  died. Her white face, filled with a grief so deep her heart stopped. 

    Thyra suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to rush to the aid of the singer. She found herself nearing the edge of the ship, thinking for a moment that she’d jump over the rail and swim to the source of the song. 

    Two hands clasped over her ears, and Thyra felt the feeling slip away from her as quickly as it had come. Hilda stood behind her, her hands pressed over Thyra’s ear; Hilda’s leather strap pulled down over her own. Thyra pulled her own leather band down and the sound was pushed almost entirely away. 

    Horror crept up on her as she thought of what the song had almost made her do. She hurried away from the edge, but not before she saw a pair of yellow eyes look up at her hatefully. Other sailors began to move to the edge. Thyra and Hilda rushed over to them, throwing their hands over their ears. Numerous of the sailors began to and ripped off pieces of their shirts to fill their ears with. 

    One of the sailors threw his leg over the side of the boat. Thyra rushed to him, but she was too slow. He fell over the edge and Thyra could just make out the sound of a horrific splash. She didn’t look over the edge; she didn’t want to see the ocean turn red. 

    Arne and the king had stuffed their ears, but even still Arne seemed to be fighting to keep himself in control. The ship veered to the side then turned back on track. The king seemed overall fine; fearful for sure, but not trying to throw himself over the edge of the ship. 

    Thyra lost her footing and rolled across the ship's deck. She looked up at Arne, startled. He was turning the ship back toward the wreckage, and he now had the wind's aid. The king suddenly looked panicked and he threw himself at Arne. The two brawled; age had little effect on the fight. Arne may have been getting along in years, but he was a well weathered captain. 

    One of his ears wasn’t covered and he’d fallen under the siren’s spell. His eyes were feral and wild. Thyra ran up the steps as the king was pinned to the ground Arne’s fist found his face. Thyra’s dislike for the king pressed itself on her, and she couldn’t help but think that he had had that coming. Arne prepared to throw the king over the edge, but Thyra rushed at him, clasping her hands over his ears. The captain blinked, like he’d been sleeping and had only just woken up. He looked at the king, his majesty's nose oozing globs of blood. 

    “Arne?” Thyra asked, then realized he wouldn’t be able to hear him. She ripped a piece off the bottom of her dress and pressed it into this hand. The captain wasted no time shoving the cloth into his exposed ear. Thyra was thrown forward and caught a glimpse of the other ships in the convoy behind them. They were also veering.

    Thyra rushed to the edge and watched as the ship lurched further forward and timbers crunched as the ship hit the rocky bank that the wreck had made its grave on. The other ships veered away. Thyra could only assume that the siren’s wail had ceased. 

    A lantern teetered and tumbled onto the deck, glass shattering and letting loose billows of flames. The ship took in water and dipped down lower, and lower still. The other ships were rushing to their aid. The first one pulled alongside and the sailors scampered aboard. The king and Arne rushed down the steps and hurried over to the ropes that the sailors had thrown over the edge for them. Thyra bounded to her feet and rushed for all she was worth. Her foot found a board weakened by the fire and it surrendered under her weight.  

    A shrill shriek escaped her lips as she fell, plummeting to the fire below. She landed beside the flames, her right arm pressed under her body at an odd angle. The heat of the flames closed it about her, and, in desperation, she kicked the nearest wall, which was weakened by the leaping fire. 

    It didn’t surrender. She ran back to it, shielding her face with her hand. Her skin felt as though it were bubbling from the heat. She thrust her foot at the wall again, while cradling her strained arm. The ceiling collapsed. She dove through the hole, just as the beams around her gave way. 

    Icy water filled her mouth and nose as beams tumbled around her. One such beam, charred and black, pushed against her body, sinking her deeper beneath the foaming water. She tried to push away from it, but didn’t have the strength. 

    In the confused images she saw in the water, her head spinning and her mind reeling, one thing was clear: glistening yellow teeth, smiling in a predatory way as they drew closer. 

    Thyra tried to scream for help; it only filled her lungs with water. She couldn’t breathe. She clawed at the beam till her fingernails broke off and blood pooled into the water around her. Her heart hammered, trying to keep her alive. The world around her grew darker, she wasn’t sure whether that was due to the water’s depth or if she was losing consciousness. At last she moved herself just enough to be free of the beam, kicking with full force she fought to get above the waves. 

    Scaly, clawed hands grabbed at her ankles, pulling her down. Thyra kicked at the figures, but she was grossly outnumbered. Teeth bit into her arms and legs, and claws jabbed into her flesh. Lungs screaming, she tried again, in vain, to free herself, the sirens were all around her now, feasting. 

    Arrows pierced the water’s surface as a figure dove into the waves inches from her. The sirens scattered. As two hands grabbed her waist, and the world went black. 

 . . . . . 

    Whippeeee! Chapter 6! Thank you everyone for reading this chapter, and thank you to all my Alpha and Beta readers for being such an incredible help! 

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